


Inevitability

by sciencefictioness



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Sex Shops, Aphrodisiacs, Consensual 'Sex Pollen', Getting Together, Lance Please, M/M, Pining, Written For Shance Secret Santa 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8924695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness
Summary: When he started looking at the castle as his home, and the other paladins as his family, Shiro eased down some of those walls he’d spent so long building to see what was behind them. There was a lot, especially where Lance was concerned.  Not just a bond of brotherhood, or respect for a fellow soldier, or the protective instincts he felt as the leader of Voltron. He fucking loved that boy, in all the ways you could love someone.  Could taste it in his mouth, feel it thrumming in his chest.  It was hard enough keeping those feelings out of the bond when they formed Voltron, but Shiro managed, for the most part.   He should have known he wouldn’t be able to keep it together forever.





	1. Lance, No

**Author's Note:**

  * For [needchocolatenow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/needchocolatenow/gifts).



“Lance.  Lance,  _ no. _ ”

 

Lance’s grip on Shiro’s hand did not relent, and he dragged him through the opening of the nearest store without having to exert himself.  Shiro didn’t put up much a fight, never did when it came to Lance, and it probably said something about their relationship that he caved so easily.   Shiro didn’t really want to look into it.  

 

Didn’t want to examine anything too closely when it might wipe that smile off Lance’s face.

 

There wasn’t really a door, just an empty space shimmering a strange shade of gray, but they couldn’t see inside the shop and when they passed through the opening he felt a shiver of energy over his skin.  Shiro couldn’t pronounce the name of the planet they were on, not without an extra set of vocal chords and more persistence than he possessed at the moment, but Allura had assured him it was safe, Paladin-friendly, and could accommodate Altean, and therefore human, needs without issue.  

 

She said all this right before she shoved Shiro and Lance towards the black lion and all but jettisoned them into space herself.

 

It had been months since they’d gotten together, or so Pidge assured them in the absence of any discernable day and night cycle or record keeping on anyone else’s part.  Lance had been remarkably reserved when things started, much to Shiro’s surprise.  Shiro had expected Lance to bulldoze straight into things once he finally confessed to him.  Not that he did it on purpose.  He’d intended on keeping his feelings to himself until the Galra were defeated.

 

And probably after that, if he was being honest.  Shiro wasn’t well versed in romance, or expressing his emotions.  He’d only just barely started letting himself feel them in the first place, to acknowledge they were there, to allow himself the luxury of something besides the determination to defeat their enemies.

 

When he started looking at the castle as his home, and the other paladins as his family, Shiro eased down some of those walls he’d spent so long building to see what was behind them.

 

There was a lot, especially where Lance was concerned.  Not just a bond of brotherhood, or respect for a fellow soldier, or the protective instincts he felt as the leader of Voltron.

 

He fucking loved that boy, in all the ways you could love someone.  Could taste it in his mouth, feel it thrumming in his chest.  It was hard enough keeping those feelings out of the bond when they formed Voltron, but Shiro managed, for the most part.  

 

He should have known he wouldn’t be able to keep it together forever.  

 

On Earth the sun rose, and fell, and rose again.  Volcanoes erupted into the heavens.  Tidal waves crashed onto shore, lightning broke apart the sky.  Something so powerful couldn’t be contained, only braced for, muscles tense and breath caught as nature played itself out.

 

What he felt when he looked at Lance was like that.  Something that bubbled higher inside him waiting for release, and when it eventually overflowed, he shouldn’t really have been surprised.

 

They’d gotten back to the castle after a particularly hard fight with the Galra, and he was on his way to the showers when he ran into Lance.  Shiro was filthy, but Lance was clean, and his hair was still wet, little shining rivulets of water running down his collarbones.  Wearing nothing but a towel, and he smelled so good and his eyes were so goddamned pretty and Shiro couldn’t stop himself.

 

He told Lance all the things he usually told him after a well-fought battle, the things he told the other Paladins, never any less true from one scrap to the next.   _ ‘You fought well,’  _ or  _ ‘I’m proud of you,’  _ or  _ ‘We couldn’t have done it without you.’ _

 

Except then he kept going.

 

_ ‘Hearing your voice in my ear and feeling you through the bond in a fight keeps me grounded.  You’re so reckless and stupid and brave, you never back down from anything even when you should.  You try to sacrifice yourself to save everyone every chance you get, and you smile through bloody teeth and wink out of black eyes and… Fuck, I’m in love with you, Lance.’ _

 

Lance made a face like he’d been punched in the stomach, and Shiro felt the ground fall out from beneath him as the reality of what he’d just done sank in.  Nausea swirled in his guts, a sour taste creeping into his mouth, the slightest tremor working its way into his hands.

 

Then Lance smiled, wide and cocky but with something unsure behind his eyes, and said,

 

_ ‘Why wouldn’t you be, I’m amazing.’ _

 

The kiss he pulled Shiro into belied his bravado, lips trembling where they pressed into Shiro’s mouth, fingers quaking against his jaw.  Tentative, and questioning, like he thought he might be pushed away.  When they broke apart Lance’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, and he seemed like he was made of glass, suddenly.  Like if he fell and Shiro didn’t catch him, he’d shatter across the floor into a million sharp but beautiful pieces.

 

‘I’ve been in love with you forever.  Just waiting on you to catch up.  Took you long enough, Takashi.’

 

Shiro felt his face go bright hot, Lance’s tongue working around his first name making him weak in the knees.  Weak in his chest, weak in his hands.

 

Weak all over in the face of the joy that radiated out of Lance, and he’d never really gotten that strength back where the other Paladin was concerned.  

 

He’d been ready for Lance to drag them into his room, shove him into bed, tear off all his clothes.  After all, Lance was constantly mouthing off to aliens everywhere they went, flirting, almost handsy, throwing himself at anything that moved.  Shiro knew it wasn’t entirely genuine, but still, he’d expected to follow Lance’s lead.  Expected heat, and impatience. 

 

Then Lance had waited for him outside the showers, blushing as he tangled their fingers together and led them both to Shiro’s room.  He tugged Shiro into bed, and pulled the blankets up around them, face going impossibly redder as he folded himself into Shiro’s chest.

 

Lance made a noise embarrassingly close to a squeak when Shiro’s arms closed around him.

 

And if Lance started shaking a little when Shiro buried his nose in Lance’s hair and breathed in, metal hand sifting gently through the strands, neither of them mentioned it.  They cuddled, and they kissed, and for weeks and weeks, that’s all they did.

 

Lance, for all his big talk, was astonishingly shy in bed.  At first anyway.   He made helpless whimpering noises when Shiro’s fingers edged under his shirt, and went furiously red at Shiro’s sweet talk.  _  ‘You’re so beautiful, you taste so good,’  _ and Lance would hide his face with long, drawn out,

 

_ ‘Shiroooooooooo….’ _

 

It was precious, and Shiro fell in love every night.  Every morning.  Every training session, every time they came back from a fight, every meal, every shower.  

 

Lance met his eyes, and smiled, and Shiro sank further into him, until there was no way out.

 

Things went slower than Shiro had anticipated, but it was so much sweeter with every fumbling step they took.  He climbed in Lance’s lap fully clothed and got them both off like horny teenagers, Lance spewing profanities the whole time, eyes wrenched shut and jaw hanging open.  Lance fell to pieces the first time Shiro took him in hand and stroked him through the shivers, whining and jerking and making Shiro feel like he owned the whole goddamned world.  The entire universe, the sprawl of the galaxy they were floating through.

 

Every planet, every sun, every star, all of them were Shiro’s so long as Lance was flush against him.

 

When he dropped to his knees at Lance’s feet to take him into his mouth, Lance’s fingertips digging into Blue’s seat, his lion’s energy humming around them in a way that seemed strangely _ pleased… _

 

Shiro didn’t think Lance was overly religious, but he spent a lot of time that day talking to god.

 

Shiro didn’t push any further as the days passed, didn’t press against Lance’s boundaries to see where, exactly, they lie.  Didn’t want to go too far, to take something Lance wasn’t ready to give him.  

 

In the end it was Lance who pushed him down into sheets that smelled of both of them already, fingers working frantically to stretch himself open before sinking down onto Shiro’s cock and riding him like he was dying for it.  After that it was like a dam bursting, too much held back for too long to be easily contained.  Every sparring session finished abruptly with Lance’s heels digging into Shiro’s back, hips arching up from where he was pinned to the floor to grind into Shiro.  When they found themselves in the showers together Lance inevitably ended up pressed against the wall, long legs around Shiro’s waist.  In their rooms, or next to one of the castle’s windows, or beneath the blanket of the false universe created by the star chart, Lance’s too-loud voice echoing out through the ship.

 

Shiro’s fingers shoved into his mouth to quiet him, moisture slipping down his knuckles, Lance’s  tongue working around the tips…

 

It didn’t quiet him enough if Pidge’s constant complaining was anything to go by.  After a few badly timed interruptions, and a few nights spent tangled together well into the morning hours, even Hunk was full of heaving sighs and bleary eyes and,

 

_ ‘When is the honeymoon phase supposed to be over, anyway?’ _

 

Keith seemed ambivalent to the loss of sleep, but was less pleased to find Lance on his knees in the shower sucking Shiro off, metal fingers buried in his hair.

 

_ ‘We’re supposed to get  _ clean  _ here, that shit’s unsanitary.’ _

 

Allura and Coran were entirely unbothered by all of it, which made Shiro a little curious about Alteans and their cultural differences as far as sex was concerned, but he certainly wasn’t going to ask.  Three of her Paladins were unhappy, though, and when Pidge started making thinly veiled threats about utilizing tasers and water cannons on Lance and Shiro, she had to do something.

 

Which was how they ended up on a Voltron-friendly planet, with a room booked for them at an inn and instructions to ‘get some of it out of their systems and come back in a few days’.  

 

How they ended up in an alien sex shop surrounded by strangely shaped dildos and questionable bottles of mysterious fluids with labels in a language Shiro couldn’t understand, well…

 

That was entirely Lance’s fault.  

 

Lance, who was poking at a large, jelly like toy shaped vaguely like a squid, and giggling as it jiggled with every touch.  Shiro slapped his hand away, looking around with a guilty expression and trying not to flush.  He was an adult, goddamn it, and they’d probably never come back to this planet again, he shouldn’t be embarrassed by a few extraterrestrial fleshlights and bottles of intergalactic lubricant.

 

Or whatever was in all those ominous, crystalline bottles of fluid.

 

“Lance,  _ stop _ .”  

 

Lance looked up from the display of artificial alien orifices he was prodding, putting on an exaggerated innocent face as he shrugged.

 

As though he didn’t have one finger poised dramatically, ready to penetrate what looked like a set of purple silicone gills set between two misshapen tentacles, complete with suckers.

 

“What?”  

 

Shiro snatched his wrist, pulling him away from the display and hissing out words.

 

“We’re Paladins of Voltron, Lance, you have to behave.”  Lance pulled a face, somewhere between offended and indignant, but with his eyes glittering in amusement.

 

“I  _ am  _ behaving.”  He reached out again, this time towards something elongated and green, like an aquatic snail’s antennae, oozing a shimmering fluid from the tip.  Shiro rolled his eyes, laying a palm flat over his face for a moment.  He dragged it down his face, lingering over his mouth, and then leaned in close to whisper in Lance’s ear.

 

“Fingering fake alien vaginas is not  _ behaving _ .” 

 

“Actually, the item your friend was investigating before is more analogous to the mouths of your species than the vaginas, if you want to be technical.”

 

Lance and Shiro both startled at the stilted English, looking up to see an alien standing next to them.  It was one of the dominant species on the planet they were on, fairly humanoid, though they had an extra set of arms, and their hands and feet were shaped differently.  Like a gecko’s, the tips of their fingers wide and flat and sticky.  Their eyes were also far too wide to pass as humans, with a cat like pupil and irises an inhuman red.  Lance sheepishly pulled his hand away from the alien dick he was about to prod, scratching at the back of his head.

 

“Ah, sorry.  I didn’t mean to-”  The shopkeeper waved their hands, or one set of them anyway, the others clasped demurely behind their back.

 

“No, no, it’s fine.  I’m sorry to eavesdrop, but I overheard your conversation.  You’re truly Paladins of Voltron?”

 

Shiro could see Lance puffing up out of the corner of his eye, standing straighter, arms crossed over his chest.

 

“We are,” Shiro responded, before Lance could launch into a speech of some sort.  The shopkeeper bowed low, holding the position for a moment before standing up again.

 

“Our people are in your debt for driving the Galra away from our outposts and extraplanetary settlements.  You’ve saved many lives.  Are you here to satisfy your curiosity, or are you looking for something specific?  It would be an honor for me to serve the… more primal appetites of two of Voltron’s Paladins.”  Something that might have passed for a smile crossed the alien’s face, except their teeth were too sharp, and it looked more like a threat than anything else.  Lance opened his mouth to speak, but Shiro cut him off.

 

“No, no, just curious, we’re sorry if we’ve caused you any trouble.  You have a… lovely place, here.  Very…”  Shiro glanced around, cheeks flushing.  “Inclusive.  Thorough.  We’ll be going now, thank you.”  He grabbed Lance’s arm to pull him towards the door only to be stopped by a sticky alien hand on his own.

 

“Wait, allow us to give you some token of our appreciation!  It’s the least we can do.”  Lance bumped Shiro’s shoulder with his own, grinning.

 

“Yeah, Shiro.  It’s the least they can do!”

 

The shopkeeper brought their second set of hands forward, a small bottle in each palm.  They were the size of a shot glass with no label, but a set of rune like characters etched into the crystalline surface.  Shiro eyed them warily, like a weapon that might suddenly go off, until Lance grabbed them both to peer at the indecipherable markings on them.

 

“Ooooh, it glows!  What’s it do?”  It was, in fact, glowing a little, now that Shiro looked at the liquid inside the tiny bottles.  They pulsed a faint blue in Lance’s palm, and Shiro cringed as he opened the lid and sniffed.  His palms itched to snatch them away from Lance, but he held back.  “It smells fruity!”  The shopkeeper smiled, looking very pleased with themselves.

 

“It’s a potent aphrodisiac, to increase the bond between lovers exponentially.  It’s a sacred ritual of our people, only undertaken by warriors who have bound themselves together with both blood and affection. There is no one who deserves it more than two of Voltron’s Paladins who have... come together in such a way.”  Shiro frowned at the alien, but before he could respond Lance was already talking, his tone suspicious and edging on accusatory.

 

“How do you know that we’re ‘together’?”  The shopkeeper laid one finger alongside their nose, which opened up in slits rather than nostrils.

 

“We have a keen sense of smell, and your species has quite a powerful scent.  I can smell you all over each other.  Anyone could.”  Lance deflated a bit, lifting his shirt up to sniff it with zero subtlety.  Shiro rolled his eyes, taking one of the bottles from Lance to frown at it.

 

“Thank you for you gift, but we can’t possibly accep- LANCE!”  Lance lifted the bottle to his lips and downed it in one gulp.  He shrugged at Shiro’s horrified expression, nonplussed.

 

“What?  It’s a GIFT Shiro, you can’t refuse it, it would be rude.  Being a bad ambassador, or whatever, Allura would be ashamed.  Besides, this is what we came here for, right?”  Anything Shiro was going to say was interrupted by the desperate, panicked noise that the shopkeeper made before they started shoving the two Paladins towards the door.  They were wide eyed and frantic, using all four of their arms to push at Lance and Shiro.

 

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT HERE!  Please, you need to leave!”  Shiro furrowed his brows in confusion, instinctively breaking the alien’s hold on them and ushering Lance out of their reach.

 

“What’s the problem?  You gave it to us, is it not safe?”  Something dark and violent started to rise up in him at the thought of Lance being hurt by whatever it was the shopkeeper had given them.  They still looked terrified, hands hovering a few inches away from Shiro, trembling.

 

“It’s safe!  It’s just-  It’s incredibly potent, and fast acting!  You need to take yours immediately, and get yourselves back to your ship or your room or wherever you’re staying!”  

 

Shiro looked at Lance, who was going increasingly limp in his arms, and his breath caught.  Lance glanced up at him, eyes black, only a thin line of blue visible around the edge.  His cheeks were flushed, and sweat was starting to break out over his collarbones.  He licked his lips, slow and languid, eyelashes fluttering as he met Shiro’s stare.

 

“Shiro, it’s hot in here.  Are you hot?  I mean, I know you’re  _ hot _ , look at you, but I’m sweating.”  Lance started to take off his shirt, and Shiro tugged it back down.

 

“Lance, no.  Just- let’s go back to the inn, okay?”  Lance stopped trying to lose his clothes, settling for wrapping his arms around Shiro instead.  He lifted one leg up and hooked it behind Shiro’s hip, writhing against him, gasping hot and breathy into his throat.

 

“Shiro, I  _ need  _ you, I-”  Lance ground his hips into Shiro’s, mouth slick on his neck, sucking hard over Shiro’s pulse point.  Shiro shivered, body instinctively seeking to respond, palm splayed out over the base of Lance’s spine and creeping upward beneath his shirt.

 

“ _ Fuck _ , Lance.”  Lance just whined, still laving at Shiro’s skin, hands pulling at Shiro’s clothes and trying to ease under them.  Shiro swallowed down a moan and maneuvered them both towards the door, sending one last glare towards the shopkeeper, who hissed urgently at him.

 

“You have to take yours now, too!  It’s a pairing ritual!  He’ll be sick if you don’t!  I’m sorry I didn’t explain, but I didn’t think he would just drink an alien fluid without waiting for instructions!”

 

Shiro sighed.  He wanted to be mad, but he really couldn’t, because it was definitely all Lance’s fault.

  
He downed the liquid in one gulp, scooped Lance up in his arms like a new bride, and started running.

 


	2. Lance, Yes

He wanted to blame his inability to get into their room on unfamiliar alien technology.  It would be a convenient excuse, easily believable.  Plausible.  Likely, even.

 

Except the lock was coded to their DNA, and all Shiro needed to do was hold his finger against the touchpad for five seconds, and the door would open.  Which should have been simple.  Idiot proof.  Touch the lock, and they’re inside.

 

But that meant taking his hands off Lance, which was proving very, very difficult.

 

Shiro had Lance shoved into the door of their room, trying to eat him alive, swallow him whole.  His Galra hand was underneath Lance, holding him aloft, but that was more of a secondary benefit considering how beautifully his metal fingers dug into the swell of Lance’s ass.  Shiro’s other hand was settled on the small of his back, inching slowly higher, shirt rucking up to reveal more and more of Lance’s skin.

 

They’d barely made it to the inn they were staying at with the way Lance was twisting in Shiro’s arms, sucking at his throat, nipping over his jaw, palming rough at his nipples through his shirt.  More than once he’d had to fight the urge to just toss Lance down on the bizarre illuminated sidewalk and tug off his clothes, take him right there.  Lance wouldn’t have put up a fight, was goading him the whole time,  _ please Shiro, please fuck me, please, I need you… _

 

Shiro needed it, too.  Whatever that alien had given them was powerful, and quick, and had Shiro shaking with the desire to get against Lance’s skin, between his thighs, in his mouth.  

 

To spread Lance out and sink his teeth into him.  Leave marks all over that smooth, tan throat.  Suck hickeys into those lean hips where no one else would see, but Shiro would know they were there, that Lance could feel them under his armor every time they climbed in their lions.

 

Lance was worse off than he was, maybe because he drank the strange blue fluid first, or perhaps because he weighed less.  Shiro couldn’t be sure exactly how it worked.

 

All he knew was that Lance was letting out a constant stream of needy, whimpering noises laced with Shiro’s name, his skin too hot and his eyes blown black and his lips swollen already because he couldn’t seem to break away from Shiro’s mouth.  Lance kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him, legs thrown around Shiro’s waist now, spine arching against the door so he could grind into him.  His cock throbbed in his jeans, and he scratched at Shiro’s undercut and jerked at his clothes and made a desperate sound like he was in pain.

 

“Shiro now,  _ now,  _ come on baby, please…”

 

He bit at Shiro’s mouth, and trembled, cheeks flushing bright hot and everything in him frantic.  Shiro tugged his hand out from under Lance’s shirt to paw blindly for the touchpad that would unlock the door, unwilling to stop kissing him for long enough to look for it properly.  It took a few tries before his fingers caught on the metallic frame of the lock, and a few more before he managed to fit his thumb just right on the flat surface of the pad.

 

There was a beeping noise, and the door vanished altogether for a few moments, long enough for Shiro to stumble forward through the place where it had been and into the room.  They almost went down in a heap but Shiro regained his footing at the last second, years of training and instincts rebalancing him before he had time to process the thought.  

 

A handful of steps, and the door rematerialized as Shiro tossed Lance down on the bed, kicking his shoes off and shedding his clothes before prowling up the mattress.  Lance did not need to be asked twice, or even once for that matter, peeling his own clothes off quickly without prompting.  He toed off his shoes and socks, writhed out of his jeans and boxers, tore off his jacket and shirt like they were on fire. 

 

Lance was absolutely shameless, and absolutely beautiful, laid out just for Shiro.  Blushing in all the right places, cheeks red, tips of his ears pink, the shining head of his cock flushed dark.  His nipples were hard, and Lance bit his lip and threw his thighs wide as Shiro knelt between them.  He started to take himself in hand and Shiro batted his arm away with growl.

 

“Shiro, I need-  _ oh, ffffuck…” _

 

Lance’s complaints evaporated as Shiro leaned forward and swallowed his cock.  Down, down, until he was nosing into the dark hair on Lance’s belly and breathing in the scent of him with a groan.  Lance framed Shiro’s face with his hands, fingers grabbing at his jaw and scratching through his hair.  Usually he would hold himself as still as possible during a blowjob, careful not to choke Shiro on his length, but evidently Lance wasn’t worried about such things right then.  He shoved himself deeper into Shiro’s mouth, pressing his cock all the way inside and then shoving uselessly against Shiro’s wet lips.  Like he could bury himself inside any further, as though Shiro wasn’t already choking on him.

 

Shiro’s eyes watered, but he moaned in bliss at the feel of Lance in his mouth.  Drool leaked down his chin as Lance fucked his face, and Shiro ground himself mindlessly into the sheets beneath him seeking friction.  He was embarrassingly close to finishing already considering Lance hadn’t even touched him, other than the urging fingers scrabbling at his cheeks and tugging on his hair.

 

Lance was thrusting mercilessly, feet sliding around on the sheets, spine curving up off the bed.

 

“Shiro, I’m close let me- fuck, let me come in your mouth, baby, please…”

 

Shiro patted his thigh in encouragement, sucking harder around Lance’s cock, cheeks hollowed.  He looked up at Lance, eyes half lidded and blown black, and when their gazes met Lance shuddered hard.  Hot, salty fluid erupted into his mouth, and Shiro swallowed it eagerly, not even minding the taste.  Normally it was repulsive, but maybe these aliens had something figured out with their weird sex potions, because Shiro couldn’t get enough.  Some of it slipped out over his lips, and Shiro pulled back from Lance’s cock.

 

“Holy  _ fuck.” _

 

Lance looked down at Shiro with something like awe, and he could only imagine the way he looked, swollen lips and red face, tongue darting out to drink up Lance’s come off his chin.  

 

And  _ shit,  _ Lance was still hard, head of his cock slick with seed that was dripping from his slit, like Shiro hadn’t just sucked his brains out through his dick.  He made a pitiful, high pitched noise and flipped over on his hands and knees, face shoved into the mattress and ass in the air.  

 

“I need you to fuck me, I need you-”

 

Lance cut himself off as he reached back and shoved two fingers roughly between his cheeks, keening at the intrusion, rocking back into his hand.  Shiro was about to scold him, something about lube and hurting himself, until he realized…  Lance was shining and slick where he was fingering himself.  He didn’t seem to notice, but the slide was smooth and easy, a clear, sweet smelling fluid spreading messy over Lance’s knuckles as he opened himself up.

 

_ Goddamn. _

 

He hadn’t consciously started moving, but all at once Shiro was kneeling behind Lance, hands spreading him wider.  Shiro buried his face against him, tongue laving over Lance’s knuckles, lapping up the saccharine slick before delving into his heat.  He worked his tongue in alongside Lance’s fingers, his own fingertips digging into the swell of Lance’s ass, cock almost sore where it lay untouched between his legs.  

 

Some things were more important, though.  Like the way Lance was babbling nonsense into the pillows, stroking himself with his free hand and swearing, thighs trembling, voice fucked out and broken.

 

Shiro whimpered helplessly, eating Lance out with abandon, his mouth making the filthiest noises against Lance’s skin.  He could have stayed there forever, palms pressing Lance’s cheeks tight together and then tugging them apart again, trying to shove his tongue impossibly deeper.  But Lance broke him out of his reverie, reaching back to grope blindly at Shiro’s hair, pawing at whatever parts of his face he managed to touch.

 

_ “Please, Shiro,”  _ and he sounded so utterly wrecked that Shiro could do nothing but obey.

 

He pressed one last messy kiss against Lance’s fingers before tugging them gently out of him and easing up higher onto his knees.  Shiro slipped two metal fingers into Lance briefly, scissoring them apart to make sure he was ready and gathering up some of the sugar-sweet fluid there.  Lance rutted back into him, hands fisting in the sheets as he started begging incoherently,  _ god, fuck, need you.  Takashi, Takashi please, please I can’t, I- _

 

Something broke inside of Shiro at the sound of his name, like it always did, because it didn’t even belong to him anymore.  It was Lance’s now, to do with as he pleased, and he used it to make Shiro a slave.

 

“Shhh, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

 

Shiro gave himself a couple of strokes, spreading Lance’s slick over his cock before pressing into him slow.  He let his hands ghost over Lance’s hips, around the front of his body, up his chest, until he had Lance wrapped up tight in his arms.  Shiro kissed every inch of tan skin he could reach with his mouth, intent on sucking hickeys into Lance’s throat and shoulders and back.  He put his teeth into it, biting a dark mark into Lance’s neck as he bottomed out within him.

 

Instead of pulling out, Shiro ground himself against Lance hard, arms going tighter around him.  He slid one hand up Lance’s chest, higher and higher until his palm was splayed out over Lance’s throat, around his chin.  Then Shiro edged his fingers into Lance’s mouth, hauling him upright until Lance was sitting in his lap.

 

Lance threw one wiry arm back around Shiro’s head, the other clutching at his Galra hand, tongue sucking desperately around his fingers.  Shiro finally released the hickey he’d been working into Lance’s skin, pressing a soft kiss just under his ear and whispering into it.

 

“God, I love you.”

 

Then he started moving.  Ungentle.  Rough, and fast, and Lance bounced in his lap as Shiro fucked him open like it was the last thing he’d ever do.  Lance just went boneless, head lolling back onto Shiro’s shoulder.  Even dripping with slick Lance was brutally tight, and Shiro already felt heat coiling in him, ready to snap.  He nosed into Lance’s hair, kissed his cheeks, let his fingers drop from Lance’s mouth to toy with his nipples.  His Galra hand found Lance’s cock automatically as it had a hundred times before, scratching through the dark hair at the base affectionately and then closing around it.  Shiro stroked him aggressively, thumbing over Lance’s crown like he liked, heating up the metal of his fingers ever so slightly.  Forcing him closer to the edge, drawing Lance tighter and tighter until he was ready to break.

 

Mostly because Shiro was about to come, right then, even though they’d just gotten started.  He wanted to blame the stuff they’d taken, wanted to lay the guilt at the feet of the shopkeeper who’d given them a weird alien aphrodisiac, but that would be a lie.

 

Lance just did this to Shiro without trying.  Made him weak, ready to shatter at the slightest touch.

 

Made him strong, because Shiro would fight the entire Galra empire to keep Lance safe.  

 

Shiro would destroy worlds, if that’s what it took to protect him.

 

He came with pathetic keening sound, forehead buried in the crook of Lance’s neck.  Lance was close, breathing erratically and twisting in Shiro’s lap.  Shiro stroked him faster, finding one of Lance’s nipples with his left hand and twisting it as he sank his teeth into the meat of Lance’s shoulder.

 

Lance unraveled beautifully, ropes of pearly white painting streaks over his chest, over Shiro’s fingers, on the sheets below them.  They stayed there for a while, gasping, both still half hard but unwilling to move.  Shiro wondered idly how long the stuff they’d taken would last, because he could already feel the lust climbing in him again, threatening to take hold.  He tugged Lance down on the bed, easing out of him carefully and smothering a grin when Lance whined in complaint at the loss.

 

“Why’d you do that?  I’m still so fucking horny, Shiro, I swear I’ll never drink weird alien sex juice again, just stick your cock back in me.”  He shoved his ass back into Shiro’s groin in encouragement to no avail.

 

“Nope.”  

 

Lance whined, rolling over to glare at him.

 

“Why not?”

 

Shiro laid on his back and spread his thighs wide, reaching down with both hands to pull his cheeks apart so Lance could see the slick shining between them.  He slid one hand down, index finger slipping into himself easily.

 

“C’mon, baby, you’re up.  I better be limping tomorrow.”

 

Lance blinked, smile spreading over his face like the sunrise.

 

Then he leapt on Shiro, and shoved his thighs wider, and fingered him open.

 

Put his mouth next to Shiro’s ear as Lance lined his cock up, ready to tear him to pieces.

 

“Sing for me, baby.”

 

Shiro did.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make the heart grow fonder.


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